


Fixative And Ice

by LogicGunn



Series: Delineation [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Art, F/M, M/M, Portraits, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: As the door snicks shut on Colonel Sheppard’s retreating back, Evan slides down onto his bed in relief and reaches for the icepack. His jaw aches when he presses it to the side of his face; his CO certainly doesn’t pull his punches when it comes to Doctor McKay.
Relationships: Pre-Ronon Dex/Evan Lorne, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill, background Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: Delineation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005948
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	Fixative And Ice

**Author's Note:**

> For Jenn, who asked for a continuation of Delineation.

As the door snicks shut on Colonel Sheppard’s retreating back, Evan slides down onto his bed in relief and reaches for the icepack. His jaw aches when he presses it to the side of his face; his CO certainly doesn’t pull his punches when it comes to Doctor McKay. Evan doesn’t think he’d hit so hard for anyone else, but he’s certainly not going to get himself into a position where he finds out. He respects Sheppard, trusts him, if pressed he’d go so far as to say Sheppard’s the best CO he’s ever served under, right hook notwithstanding. There are very few people who could lead a military base in a galaxy overrun by vampires and keep their cool. If only he’d get his paperwork filled in on time. 50% of Evan’s job is chasing up signatures from Sheppard and forwarding them on to the SGC.

Sheppard’s hardly alone in that regard though; for the brief stint Evan served as then-Colonel O’Neill’s XO back on Earth he was just as administratively challenged, rushing to get O’Neill’s stamp of approval for everything from the next month’s menu in the mess to the latest transfer requests from Peterson of airmen and women who wanted to find out if the rumours about the mountain were true. O’Neill was harder to pin down than Sheppard, less likely to be found in a certain lab and much more likely to have wandered off base to avoid visiting diplomats.

That doesn’t change his propensity for orbiting his own geek, however. Wherever Colonel Sam Carter goes, O’Neill is sure to be close by.

***

_“Colonel Carter? Do you have a second?”_

_Carter looks up from her screen and smiles at Evan. “Hello Major, how are you settling in?”_

_“Just fine, ma’am. It’s a well-oiled machine here, and it’s easy to just slide into the machinations and hit the ground running.”_

_“I’m glad to hear it. What can I do for you?”_

_Evan slips in the door and lets it close behind him. “I’m actually here for a more personal reason.”_

_Sam pushes her chair back from the desk. “You’re here about the portrait modelling, aren’t you?”_

_“Yes, ma’am. I came to see if we could find a good time between our schedules.”_

_“I can make time this evening if that suits you? Though why you’d want to use me as your model I can’t imagine.”_

_“You have an interesting facial structure. The way your profile reflects the light is…uh…that probably sounds like some kind of come-on.”_

_Carter lets out a genuine laugh. “From anyone else, Major, I might take it as one.”_

_“I swear I’m only looking at you with an artist’s eye,” insists Evan. “You remind me a lot of my sister, and even if you didn’t I would never-“_

_“Don’t worry about it, Evan. Me and my interesting facial structure will meet you topside after dinner, assuming you still want to do it outside.”_

_“You can’t beat sunlight.”_

_“See you then.”_

***

Evan did three portraits that night. Two rough sketches in charcoal to map out the hollow in Carter’s cheeks and the slope of her jaw, and another smaller, more intimate, picture in pastels, a study in the fairness of her skin and the sparkle of her blue eyes and the flush of her lips. He did his best to capture the movement of the wind in her hair, give it a sense of motion and life, a snapshot in time. It’s a gift for her once it’s been fixed to the paper, to thank her for sitting for him, and her face lights up when she sees herself through his eyes; her femininity and her strength, her intelligence and her fortitude. Evan’s always been able to portray a person’s soul on paper, a rare gift according to his mother who taught him everything she knew and everything she didn’t. There was a time he made a living off portrait painting, before he joined the USAF when he thought his calling was in gouache rather than the cockpit of an F-16. He’s not the same person his mother made, there’s too much time spent in enemy territory for that, but he never lost that need to create, to take what he can see and put it down on paper.

Carter never mentions the portrait again, Evan doesn’t expect her to, but it’s not the last he sees of it. Years later, when they’ve made contact with Atlantis, sent through reinforcements and returned in one piece, O’Neill calls him to his office. He talks about responsibility and leadership and trust, new horizons and new challenges and a new CO, and Evan’s handed his transfer orders to another galaxy. He knows he should be excited and nervous and possibly saying something, but his eye has been caught by the edge of a picture peeking out from underneath a stack of folders; the unmistakable blue of Carter’s eyes and the blonde of her hair juxtaposed with requisition forms and top-secret dossiers and personnel files. It’s not the first time his work has been gifted to a loved one, and he hopes it won’t be the last. He’s just surprised. He’s heard rumours, of course he has, about O’Neill and Carter, Carter and Teal’c, O’Neill and Jackson…any other 2IC would report them for fraternisation, but Evan’s been through the gate, knows deep in his bones that the bonds you forge with your team-mates are a big part of the reason that Earth is still standing. Besides, he wouldn’t begrudge anyone the chance to love.

Looking up, Evan catches himself in his mirror, the blood dripping down his collar and the melting ice-pack dripping down his wrist. He takes in the squint of his eyelids and the strength of his chin, looks at himself with artist’s eyes for the first time. There’s a portrait right there in front of him, waiting to be drawn, and if he knows Ronon Dex as well as he thinks he does, the bloody lip might be appreciated just as much as the steely gaze.


End file.
